


Aether's Will

by BurneHazard



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alpha/Beta, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha/Omega Dynamics, Angst, BDSM, Bestiality, Biting, Blood Magic, Bloodplay, Bloodshed, Claiming, Class Issues, Cold Heart, Collars, Come Inflation, Dom/sub, Domination, Dubious Consent, Dubious Potions, Dubious use of Light, Dubious use of Pheromones, Dysfunctional Family, Explicit Sexual Content, Fandom Warp, Forced Pregnancy, Forced Sex - Not Rape, Frustration, Insane Elves, Kinks, Knotting, Love, M/M, Magic, Marking, Mating Cycles - Heat/Rut, Mpreg, Prostitution, Racial Bias, Racial prejudice, Romance, Rough Sex, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Frustration, Sexual Slavery, Shady Characters, Size Kink, Slavery, Stubborn Alpha/Demanding Omega, Submission, Tentacles, Torture, Violence, Violent Sex, binding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 04:48:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9162727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurneHazard/pseuds/BurneHazard
Summary: Aether - Classical Element: the material supposed to fill the region of the universe above the terrestrial sphere. Mythology: was the personification of the "upper sky", space and heaven. Theory: in alchemy, natural philosophy, and early modern physics that suppose a "fifth element". (Excerpt/Summary from Wikipedia - "Aether")Mortal lives are too fleeting to comprehend most things. But when the actions of "children" in the eyes of the cosmos result in the loss of so many of those children, there is a response. Only it is not the sort of response most would imagine. Then again, how can you imagine what you are oblivious to? Pity the elves are the ones who are to endure Aether's decision. But it is far from displeasing for some of the sin'dorei...





	1. In the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-vamp of my last attempt at writing a story in the Alpha/Omega-verse.
> 
> First of all, my sincerest apologies to all who had read the start of the first attempt and enjoyed it, as well as to those who left comments, kudos, or bookmarked it. I had believed that the beginning was solid and that I would have no trouble in continuing from the point I had chosen. Unfortunately, I hit the worst to date writer's block. Absolutely NOTHING I tried to remove it worked. Even sitting down and tossing ideas around with the primary source of inspiration for this story, trying to RP some things out, music, alternative inspiration. Nothing. I admitted defeat. But I still have ideas, plans for this story. So rather than abandon this baby, I am wiping the slate clean and removing the prior limitations to make it completely AU rather than so tightly bound to past RPG's.
> 
> I hope that those of you who enjoyed what I had tried to create with the first attempt can forgive me and enjoy my second attempt more than the first. The other reason for deleting the prior work was to remove all kudos and views tied to the prior so this story can have the chance for its own reviews and likes or dislikes.
> 
> As was stated in the first attempt, this entire story is primarily for an old friend whom I've RPed with in World of Warcraft for years. We both love our characters so much but the game imposes certain limitations as well, and the community for RP has fallen so drastically that certain things simply cannot be done to full enjoyment.
> 
> A reminder that no character will be underage (for any sexual or darker instances). The "forced sex - not rape" note means while there may be mention of rape, I will NOT be describing it graphically. The parties for forced sex will be willing--and it will be situational.
> 
> Most importantly--TRIGGER WARNINGS! While I don't know exactly where the full story will take me, I've been advised to place this warning up. I am descriptive and if any reader is upset or otherwise easily triggered by serious/graphic/violent events, it would be best to read this with extreme caution and readiness to stop reading the instant you become uncomfortable.
> 
> \--------------------------------------------------

_It had been said that every act creates a ripple. Although phrased in hundreds of ways by thousands of different races, creeds, religions, and origins, the fundamental truth remained simple. But mortal lives are too short to begin attempting any comprehension of just how even small ripples affect the future. And even should one of those deemed immortal grasp such a concept, the full understanding would still be lost to them. For despite the use of the term "immortal" such lives remain barely even a blink in the eye of the universe._

_A ripple was merely the surface. Beneath that, far more transpired. Such was the way of things. No matter how intuitive, how imaginative, how genius the minds of mortals and immortals were, their primary fault was always to accept things at limitation. Even the most inquisitive or curious only dug so far before believing that was all to be found. So it was that the ways of the world were believed to be set after ages passed and nothing further was uncovered. Four primary elements: Earth, Fire, Air, Water. Three secondary elements: Light, Dark and Spirit. And of course the strange outsider called Arcane._

_What remained overlooked for so long was a very simple matter. Of course each element was divided among various majorities of practitioners. Nature elements were typically divided between the shaman and the druids with hunters stalking associated paths. Light was the common realm for paladins and priests to dabble in, if the latter did sometimes turn elsewhere. Rogues and warlocks both held claim to portions of the Dark. Death knights held sway over portions of the Dark and the opposite end of Nature in their pestilence and diseases. And monks often employed spirit and nature in their ways much as some shaman did. The warriors were the odd ones out._

_Only the mages were able to grasp the power of the arcane. While they often employed it to manipulate ice or fire, the arcane remained the source of such ability. So upon the surface the world and all existence was predominated by Nature and other Elements. It was understandable if one looked at the result of uncontrolled arcane power: the Burning Legion. Abuse and overabundance of arcane energy not only drew the Legion's attention but served to rip open portals to grant them access to the world of Azeroth. So the world and its heroes turned upon the arcane and buried it beneath the majority._

_Not that any of this truly mattered. But what mortal and immortal awareness alike failed to comprehend was that the arcane was not merely some baseless power. Like the Elements, the arcane had a will of its own. And the source of that will was called Aether. Perhaps the highborn and the night elves that evolved from that race were closest to grasping that deep-buried truth. But the rift between the arcane-loving elves and the nature-loving elves blinded both to the discovery of this deity. Instead the night elves embraced Elune, who was truly just the ghostly whisper of one of Aether's facets. The highborn failed to embrace any personification of their source of power._

_When the night elves sacrificed their immortality to halt the Legion, Aether took notice. But it did nothing. That was the price to be paid for the abuse. But it continued to watch carefully. It was when the cast-off trash of Legion make--the Scourge--led to the destruction of the Sunwell that it tilted the scales. The elves were the children of the arcane, Aether's children. And while it was punishment to stand by when night elves--and highborn--lost one of its blessings, to loose so many more elves was not acceptable. While history did repeat when the survivors split into factions of high elves and blood elves, the loss of so many children and so much power stirred Aether's hand._

_Even as the peoples and elements of Azeroth rallied to face the Legion once more, Aether worked to correct the upset scales. Naturally, no one noticed the subtle changes. Not at first. They hardly affected every race. In fact, it was only the various races of elves who would feel the results of Aether's choice. But they would not realize the cause, only notice the change after the Legion was once again halted in its invasion of the world. Then, in that brief breath between one war fought on a shattered world and the next fought in the frozen north of Azeroth, the elves noticed the evolution._

_Survivors began exhibiting strange behaviors. Even stranger were the abilities many males began showing. While there was a noticeable rise in elven births--previously limited due to the longevity of the race--it was not just the females able to give birth. Suddenly the elvish worlds were toppled sideways as it was revealed the more aggressive behaviors of some males balanced out the more submissive behaviors of others. The more submissive elves could give birth. And as discoveries went, it was only the more aggressive elves who could breed them. Thus began one of the better kept secrets among the elven races: Alphas and Omegas._


	2. Bad Morning

            Silvermoon City was beautiful. The magical manipulations of the elves that made the lands into a realm of eternal spring ensured that enchantment. And as the sun rose on another morning, the splendor was taken for granted by the denizens of the capital due to the veil of monotony. It was not entirely their fault. Daily life had returned to the streets and thoroughfares with a strength none of the regular citizens were aware of. That grind to produce and sell wares, to gain coin for food and clothing and shelter was the way that most of them coped.

            It was a gorgeous morning. Although the high walls and great spires did tend to block out the sun until it was a few hours closer to noon, the city never did become completely dark. There was a distinct chill in the air when evening took hold. Not like the mornings. When the sun rose, the city warmed as if it absorbed the rays of light quicker than a dry sponge pulled in water. So where a stray few might have found the city's beauty to be superfluous or mundane, one citizen found it welcome.

            Narthias Dev'Arian stood before the open window of his apartment letting the sunlight peeking over the wall wash over him. The warmth of the golden rays playing over his eyelids was exquisite. Even if it was so faint, every hint of heat was like the finest of kisses. It washed through his body through to his very bones. There it stopped, caressing the bitter chill of ice within them without chasing the ache away. Still, he could not bring himself to turn away from the warmth, even if it did nothing but intensify the hollow pain.

            The day was almost half over and it had slipped past him. So many days had slipped past with barely a kiss of warmth, of light, of hope. Unfortunately, this day was unique. It came once a month for the past few months. Ever since he had returned from his service in Northrend, he had been obligated to fulfill the duty it brought. A duty that was the most distasteful, painful, emotionally draining, torturous things he had ever been forced to endure. Yet he had volunteered like any good glutton for punishment.

            A knock on the door broke him out of his idle trail of thought. Turning his head, he opened his good eye to glance toward it. His vision was warped into shades of blue and green and gold from the hours spent with his eyes closed beneath direct sunlight. Blinking, he sighed and very slowly turned away from the window to step over to the sturdy wooden rack sporting his official armor. One hand rose to rest on one of the pauldrons where it depicted an open book in gold with a dagger resting along the spine.

            "It's open," he said just loud enough to be heard through the barrier. "Come in."

            He let his gaze fall to the armor as his thumb stroked the short cross-section of the very functional dagger. Taking a deep breath, he released it in a heavy sigh. The latch clicked as the door opened. Staring at the hollow cowl, he gave his vision time to return to normal spectrum colors. Unbound ebon hair fell forward, shadowing his features as if to help that very goal. In the quiet of the apartment, he listened to the soft footsteps and the second click of the latch when the door closed behind his visitor.

            "Well, I must admit, I had expected you to be ready to go," came from the visitor. "Are you all right, Knight-Master?"

            Narthias grimaced at the title. Letting his hand fall from the armor, he reached up to comb his hand back through the long fall to get it out of his face. Straightening, he finally turned to face his visitor.

            "My apologies, Magister Ban'dinoriel. This morning..." he shook his head, trailing off.

            Stepping forward, the magister leaned his staff against the wall and reached up to push his hood back. The brown hair was short and made messy by the cloth that had weighed it down but the sunlight revealed the ruddy streaks of red through the spikes and highlighting the sharply angled brows. His eyes blazed with fel green light that seethed like fire, bleeding the illumination into the air beneath his brows.

            "Have you taken your suppressants, Narthias?"

            Nodding, the knight sank down in the chair he had pulled away from the vanity when he first woke up. He leaned back, trying to relax.

            "A few days ago. They will be in full affect. Everything will be contained for our inspection."

            The magister frowned, breaking the normal veneer of calm control. Approaching the knight, he leaned down to take a closer look at the lightly tanned features. He saw nothing aside from the lingering pallor that had been there since Narthias returned from service in Northrend.

            "Did you have a relapse?"

            "No, Raiamir. Just...dreading this appointment."

            At the use of his first name however, the magister's frown grew. He reached out to caress the side of the knight's face. Cloth-covered fingers played over the vicious scarring burnt deep into the flesh. They traced the shape of a dagger almost vividly and permanently scarring the skin and surface muscles. Unconsciously, the larger elf tilted his head into the touch. Even if the  cloth was cool, the hand beneath was warm.

            "Narthias?" the magister questioned in a far softer tone.

            One hand rose as Narthias caught the gloved one, holding it against his face and turning his head toward the touch. His lips pressed against the almost delicate area on the inner wrist. It was the clearest signal that could be given beyond outright words. Raiamir immediately stepped closer. His free hand caught the trail of his robes to draw them up more so he could more easily straddle the knight's thigh and press closer to him.

            Eye closing, the larger elf bowed his head to just breathe in against the cloth. As he nuzzled the area, Raiamir relaxed his hand to allow his biology to take over. His neutral scent bled from the fine gland beneath the skin to permeate the glove he wore. Pressing closer, the magister wound his free arm around Narthias' shoulders to press his other wrist to the hollow just beneath and behind his ear. Rubbing, he let the scent bleed out to make contact with the knight's flesh. And whether the other elf knew it or not, tension that had been wracking his form bled away.

            Minutes passed. Finally, Narthias pressed another kiss to the inner wrist, releasing the patient hand. Taking another deep breath, he released it and lifted his head.

            "My apologies, Raia. I did not mean to be such a burden," Narthias said as he started to rise.

            Raiamir placed his hands on the knight's shoulders to push down. He hardly had any strength to make the larger elf stay put, but the gesture halted him.

            "You are not a burden, Narthias. I'm your Beta of my own free will. You're not the only one who needs this. And for the last time, stop apologizing. No one else could go through all you have and still be so strong. I think you're allowed to be weak from time to time."

            Impulsively, Narthias wound his arms about the magister's waist to give him a hug. After a moment and a cleared throat, the knight let his arms dropped. This time he was allowed to rise as Raiamir withdrew. He brushed his hands down his robes to set them right. The taller elf approached the waiting armor and began to remove it from the stand piece by piece. When gloved hands appeared to help him get dressed, there was only a momentary pause before he resumed.

            "Besides, it's an honor for me as well. Many would do more than kill to be the Beta for such an Alpha."

            Despite his mood, Narthias found himself laughing. Shaking his head, he let the agile fingers tighten the laces on his bracers as it was rather difficult to do one-handed himself. Reaching up, he ran his bare fingers through the short hair to comb it back and smooth it down into a slightly more controlled style. Raiamir had resumed his aloof and cool demeanor. The hair combing simply made him blink and give the knight a look that might have meant anything.

            While the magister pulled his hood back up and retrieved his staff from its resting place against the wall, the knight donned the leather and mail lined plate helm. Securing his faceplate, he scooped his shield up to sling into place on his back. The mace was hooked to the thick belt at his side. Last to be pulled on were his gauntlets. Raiamir opened the door and the two stepped into the hallway. Fully armored, calmed, and in control, they headed for their appointment in one of the dens known only to those of elven blood.


End file.
